


Connected at the Spark

by RenaRoo



Series: Airazor and Transmutate [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 17:25:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9082252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: The final hours of the Beast Wars are upon them, and Airazor is still battling her own friends among the Maximals for the importance of their new teammate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: ( @vo-kopen ) How about a sequel to the Airazor/Trans-Mutate fic, where it is the finale of beast wars. Megatron has the Nemesis, the former herald of the Vox (ScorpioSaur? It’s Terrorsaur and Scorponok) and he is ready to finally destroy the Ark, and then fly the ship to conquer the past of Cybertron. With the Maximals outgunned and overwhelmed, it’s up to Airazor, Tigatron, and Trans-Mutate to save the team and the future.Not sure how, maybe Trans-Mutate finds a way to get Rampage to turn on the Predacons, for vengeance for his torture, and his fight with the herald devastates the Nemesis? Just a crude idea, change it as you want or need)
> 
> A/N: This took quite a lot of time for me to finish up and I apologize for that, but it was such a neat prompt and I wanted to give it the attention I thought it deserved so I really hope you enjoy it!

“I’m going in for a landing, Big Bot. Anything in particular you’re wanting me to look out for?” 

In her beast mode, Airazor found that stealth was her favored asset. Perhaps it was a side effect of spending so much time with her sparkmate in the wild, perhaps it was the natural inclination of a bird of prey. 

Regardless, the missions where she spied for her beloved fellow Maximals truly helped her feel _alive_ in a way even combat failed to. 

“Only the usual Predacon activity, Airazor,” Optimus Primal replied. “But if you’re not seeing anything, I don’t want you to make yourself a target. Take a short rest and then head back to base. We need all the hands we can get here that we can.”

With a flutter of her wings, Airazor came in for a landing on the best tree perch she could see and took a breather. “Coming in loud and clear, Big Bot. I’ll be back sooner than you know it.” She paused, a cocky smirk on her beak. “Oh, and please tell Tigatron to not pace. He’ll wear down the rocks.”

“Noted,” Primal said in that bemused way of his before cutting off communication. 

Airazor relaxed on her perch and looked out into the recovering territories around her. 

In many ways, her sparkmate had been more than right about the effects of the Beast Wars on their adoptive world. It had been scarred and plundered – sometimes irrevocably. But Airazor was not the pessimist that Tigatron was, and though the damage pained her to the spark, she saw what even Tigatron sometimes did not.

 _Life_  on this primordial Earth, persisted. It continued, it _grew_ and _strengthened_. And that was what she loved about the planet most of all. 

With a heavy sigh, Airazor thought about how much they Cybertronians could learn about the persistence of life. How even her own beloved Maximals were guilty of the unchanging and uncouth view of what constituted _thriving_ and _righteous living._

They had nearly given up on Transmutate, for example. They feared her differences, and the unrecognizable way that she thrived. 

When it came to that, they were all still learning. And because Airazor was around, she was determined to see her fellow Maximals continue forward, to improve. 

She was so lost in her thoughts on the subject that she nearly did not catch the soft unnatural tunes that were carrying through the air of the savanna. 

"Uh oh,” she sighed, more than familiar with the harmony. “And _that’s_ what I get for entrusting _anything_ to Cheetor.”

Swooping from her perch, Airazor flew straight for the music reverberating throughout the landscape and over the the airways. Even the updrafts that the hawk loved seemed disturbed by the mere strength of the vocalizations. 

It was a distinct calling card of one particular Maximal who, while near and dear to Airazor’s spark, had made herself something of a handful on the subject at hand. 

“Transmutate!” Airazor called out the moment she saw the shining metal of her friend. She transformed during her landing, allowing her usual grace to be sacrificed for the speed of it.

Slowly, Transmutate looked down, her wide mouth finally forming a smile rather than the long stream of sounds she had been singing out into the distance.

“Air… _Raz_ or,” Transmutate called affectionately, and immediately turned to approach her fellow Maximal. 

“Yes, it’s me,” Airazor sighed, allowing herself and her feathers to be petted and groomed by the always affectionate Transformer. “But I’m more interested about _you_ right now. Like how _you_ are so far away from the base! You’re supposed to be playing with Cheetor.” 

“Hmm,” Transmutate said in a distinctly noncommital tone. It was the closest she got to dissent toward anyone – even those Predacons who had been guilty of harming her or their friends in the past. She then pulled on Airazor’s feathers harder than usual. 

“I know, Cheetor’s _not_ me or Silverbolt,” Airazor sighed. “But he _is_ a friend. He is _family.”_

As soon as the words had left her mouth, Airazor could see the flicker of association in Transmutate’s dark eyes. She turned back slowly toward the savanna and let a low, vibrating hum that Airazor could feel all the way down to her own spark. 

"Friend,” she muttered, almost longingly. “Out there.”

Airazor vented from deep within her core, arms wrapping around each other as she looked sympathetically toward her obsessive friend and fellow Maximal. She had been suspicious of just what Transmutate was planning on doing out in the wild, but she had still been hoping that it wasn’t true. 

“Still holding out hope for Rampage, huh?” Airazor asked the powerful Maximal. 

“Feel him,” Transmutate answered without hesitation, placing her hand over her spark chamber. “Here.”

With a sad smile, Airazor reached for Transmutate’s shoulder, but let the other bot meet her halfway and press into the touch. “I feel like we have this conversation all the time, Transmutate. And I know you don’t like what any of us have to say about Rampage and how dangerous it can be to call out to him the way you do.”

Predictably, Transmutate’s face skewed and she looked off into the distance again. But she didn’t move away from Airazor’s touch. 

“ _But,”_ Airazor continued, “I more than anyone know what it’s like to have a connection to someone right at the spark, to feel the need to be by another’s side. And considering Silverbolt’s initial history with the Predacons, and that even Blackarachnia is with us now, I won’t tell you that there’s no hope for Rampage.”

Transmutate glanced to her silently, dark eyes pleading for Airazor to continue.

“You’re good to your spark, and that’s why we worry about you,” Airazor informed her. “And it looks like you’ve been out here for a long time already – you know that’s dangerous without having a beast mode. Come on. Let’s get back to the Ark. Rest up. It’s not like we can stop you the _next_ time you decide to come out and look for Rampage.” 

A small smile came across her face and Transmutate nodded and began to follow, her hand moving for Airazor’s, and Airazor gladly took it. 

* * *

Primal had been waiting on them, somehow in that knowing way that he always managed to have. 

Though Airazor truly loved her fellow Maximals like family, even she couldn’t help but feel a subtle shutter through her feathers with how imposing and empowered Primal’s newest form was. 

Transmutate, who never seemed to feel intimidation, at least not in the ways that Airazor could decipher, merely smiled at the greeting and moved on toward the inside of the volcano without Airazor’s further guidance. There was almost a swing in her step as she did so.

With a scowl, Optimus Primal watched after her and not so subtly shook his head in disapproval. 

Detecting trouble already, Airazor reached forward. “Now, hold on, Optimus. Don’t jump to any conclusions… she was simply out–”

“I’m fully aware of what she was most likely doing, Airazor,” Primal cut her short. His massive arms crossed over his chest and he shook his head. The Transmetal body gleamed over her. “We have too much at risk – too much responsibility here protecting the Ark – for any Maximal to be _inviting_ further attack from any of the Predacons. _Especially_ one as powerful and as unpredictably dangerous as Protoform X.”

“I know,” Airazor admitted, thogh she didn’t back down, her frown set. “But she is not inviting attack. And it isn’t as if the Predacons aren’t very much aware of where we are and just what our resources are.”

That wasn’t enough to stop their leader from shaking his head. “Look, Airazor, you are one of our most valuable assets in the Beast Wars, and you’re also one of the most sensible Maximals I have ever come to know. But sometimes your Spark is larger than we can afford.”

“Transmutate is a Maximal, Optimus, and she’s just as valuable,” Airazor corrected him. 

“She’s not helping with the current plans,” Optimus corrected. “Loathe as I am to admit it, next to Rhinox, Blackarachnia has become one of our most vital advantages against the Predacons. The constant patrols and skirmishes that you, Tigatron, and Cheetor manage are of incalculable value. Everyone is pulling more weight than they can bear for now, and Transmutate in response seems _determined_ to invite further trouble.”

“I wholly disagree, Sir,” Airazor responded quickly. “I do. And I know, deep down, you can feel the right thing to do. You can feel the importance that Transmutate holds. She is and always _has_ been a game changer.”

“Perhaps,” Primal said, turning to head back into the fortified cave. “Let’s just hope that the _change_ is for _our_ side for once.”

Airazor watched, shoulders stiff and chin up until Primal was firmly behind the gate door. Then she allowed herself to drop, her bravado to crumble. Her optics settled on the dirt beneath her feet and she wondered idly how she could feel even lower than it.

She let the wave of emotions to wash over her fully – a vulnerability she rarely allowed herself. 

After all, she sensed she was in good company. 

“I know you’re there,” she said loftily. “You’re not as good at hiding as you think you are.”

“Hm,” Tigatron responded, revealing himself from the rocks above, in his beast mode as usual. His kind eyes were wise and endearing, the sorts of optics that Airazor could lose herself in if she wanted to. “Perhaps, my spark of sparks, you are simply more observant than you realize.”

“Well, I do have quite an eye,” she replied half-heartedly, watching as Tigatron leaped down to the earth beside her then transformed beside her. 

“Optimus Primal is a good leader, but that leadership is a heavy burden he more than feels in these dire times,” Tigatron informed her. “His concern should not be confused with condemnation.”

“Gee, they sure sound similar, don’t they?” Airazor responded, hugging her arms and shaking her head. “I know in my spark that helping Transmutate – trusting her – it’s the right thing. But everyone thinks that she views the world like a sparkling. And that’s simply not true. It _isn’t._ I know she has trouble expressing herself, but she understands danger, and she understands something about Rampage that we cannot.” She glared toward the base. “And having that blowhard Depth Charge who holds so much hatred for Protoform X just on concept alone isn’t going to help any of us to _see_ whatever it is that Transmutate does.”

Putting a hand to his chin, Tigatron let out a low, rumbling hum. “And nothing disturbs the mighty Airazor like not being able to _see_ something clearly.”

Airazor looked to him playfully and leaned back against his chest. His soft fur and her fluttering feathers seemed like such unique features these days with the craze over transmetal bodies and powerful new forms. 

Tigatron adored nature, adored being a part of the natural world. Airazor adored him and his view – his unique, unlike anyone else among the Maximals view – of their existence. 

No one could see like them, and they could not see like Transmutate. 

“I wish they could see how important she will be someday,” Airazor said, unpropmted. “I wish I could show them how I see. How _we_ see. But then, I suppose, that would lose the point.”

“We will figure it out together, my spark,” Tigatron said in that wise, calm way that she loved. 

He always knew how to make her feel reassured. Even in the worst of times. 

* * *

It was Airazor’s shift to man the guns, allowing for the perimeter checks to go to a ground patrol of Cheetor and Tigatron instead. Though a part of her inwardly mocked the concept of the duo seeing nearly as much as she would on her air patrol, she knew Primal’s orders were always for good reason.

Tigatron, as per usual, was right. 

Opposite her, at the other gun, Rattrap was having himself a ratnap. The sort of antics that Airazor could not help but smile at. 

While their guns were aimed outward toward possible intruders, Airazor’s gaze was more concerned with their entrance – or, rather, Transmutate’s exit from the compound. 

Nearly everyone within the compound were working on technical projects, enhancing their protective shields and developing strategies – Rhinox, Blackarachnia, and Optimus Primal had much to do and discuss. 

And that usually meant turning their backs to Transmutate, not keeping a proper optic on her. 

It was almost no wonder that whenever Airazor was away, Transmutate got out to call for the only other Transformer she had truly connected spark-deep with. 

Well, not _only._

It was something of a surprise to see the doors open for Silverbolt and quickly shut behind him. He was in botmode and striding confidently as usual. 

Rattrap, taken by surprise by the noise, at first bolted up and aimed his gatling gun toward Silverbolt only to let out a “feh” and waved his hand in annoyance. He slumped back into his seat and kicked up his feet, optics shuddering again. 

Silverbolt did not seem to mind and was heading instead straight for Airazor. 

“Ah, my dearest Maximal sister! My fateful fellow flyer!” the bot called out exuberantly. 

“Greetings to you, too, Silverbolt,” Airazor said, smirking as she leaned against her weapon. “The weather bring you outside? Or are you attempting to get away from the relentless scientific chatter? Primus knows I can only stand it for a nanosecond myself.”

There was a light chuckle from the Fuzor. “While I may not understand everything which is said in the scientific field, I find that with the right voice, science is a beautiful sentiment worthy of being heard.”

“Mmhmm,” Airazor hummed, amused as she leaned in further. “Does _science_ feel the same way about you, my furry, feathery friend?”

Abashed only momentarily, Silverbolt covered his sparkchamber with one beastly paw. “I believe that the passion felt between us is greater than any disparagement found in our intellectual basis.” He paused and then looked to her a little questioningly with his golden eyes. “You _were_ asking about Blackarachnia and I and _not_ just about science, yes?”

“Yes,” Airazor mused. “I am happy to hear you so confident. Especially since, for the rest of us,” she glanced back toward the doors to the volcanic hold, “there’s not nearly as much comfort to be taken in her… neutrality.”

“Neutrality?” Silverbolt balked. “She is in there now, working to assist us with threats, Airazor!”

“Without switching her chip to a Maximal,” Airazor reminded him. “And mostly because of _you_ and because of her hatred of Megatron and the other Predacons. Not because she feels particularly heroic. Did you forget the stunt she pulled in order to get herself that new transmetal body?”

“Do _you_ forget what prompted her?” Silverbolt asked defensively. “Attitudes she was receiving from fellow Maximals – like yours right now.”

Sighing, Airazor shrugged. “Forgive me, Silverbolt. I suppose I feel a little testy that Optimus Primal is working so eagerly with a former enemy while still holding so many reservations toward Transmutate.”

“Which is _not_ Blackarachnia’s fault,” Silverbolt reminded her. “But I understand your frustrations, my birdie friend. Remember, I, too, have a fondness and protectiveness of our mutual Maximal friend.”

“I know, Silverbolt, I know,” she sighed. “Alright, I apologize for bringing up the mess with Blackarachnia. It wasn’t very fair of me. What _did_ bring you out here? Does Optimus want another switch of the guards?”

"Not to my knowledge,” Silverbolt said almost dodgily. “Really, I came out here for you and some, let’s say, advice of the _personal variety.”_

There was a moment’s pause where Silverbolt apparently was waiting for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked, but Airazor was not about to allow him easy passage from the bed of awkward he had made for himself. 

“Well, then, out with it,” Airazor pressed.

“It’s just that, _on the subject_ of Blackarachnia, I suppose I was hoping to look to _you_ for some more tailored advice on what a shebot’s heart wants,” he said clumsily.

“Hm,” Airazor replied dully before holding up a finger. “Advice part one, don’t say _shebot.”_

Silverbolt tilted his head. “Oh?”

“Yes, and advice number two, being ladies is about the _only_ thing Blackarachnia and I have in common, my dear friend, and I fear that that is not much of a basis to go on at all,” Airazor continued. 

“Except that you are both in relationships with, let’s say, unconventional mates,” Silverbolt conceded.

Airazor tilted her helm. “Are we?” she asked. “I know that _I_ am. Are you two actually on the same level at the spark of it all?” 

“Positively!” Silverbolt boasted.

“Hm,” Airazor cocked her head to the other side. “I have such a hard time seeing that. And _seeing things_ tends to be my specialty, Silverbolt.” She then glanced back toward the pathway. “I think she _does_ have feelings for you, but I also think she doesn’t know what she’s planning to do with them yet. And I think that’s dangerous.”

“What is love without a sense of danger, though?” he said lightly.

“Normal,” Airazor replied flatly.

"Boring,” Silverbolt charged back.

Airazor began to roll her eyes but stopped the moment they reached the ledge leading into their canyon. Her body grew rigid and she stared up into the distance, eyes widening with their increasing focus.

Silverbolt seemed to at the very least take notice of her change and came closer. “Is it something I said, Airazor?” he asked.

“Shh,” Airazor chided before she found what had caught her eyes to begin with. 

There was no mistaking it – it was _Rampage._ And he was quickly approaching their base, though limping significantly with his claws over his spark chamber. 

“Silverbolt, get Primal!” she yelled, leaping into action on her turret. “Tell them to call in Cheetor and Tigatron then get out here!”

“What is it!?” Silverbolt asked in shock.

“Trouble,” Airazor answered before looking over to Rattrap. “Rattrap! Get up! We’ve got incoming!”

As Silverbolt bolted for the base doors, Rattrap nearly leaped out of his chair and whirled around, hands quickly wrapping around his gun’s handles. 

“I’m awake! I was awake the whole time! I saw it coming!” he shouted out before looking and, without Airazor’s special eyes, seeing nothing in the distance. “Hey! Airazor! What’s the big deal? Tryna give me a sparkattack–”

“It’s Rampage! He’s on the canyon walls and he’s coming in fast, you’ll see him soon enough,” Airazor snapped back, directing her gun in Rampage’s direction and ignoring Rattrap’s continued skepticism. “Have my eyes ever been wrong?”

“Yeah, yeah, you know they say there’s a first time for everything,” Rattrap snarked before going rigid as he finally saw the former Protoform X for himself. “Cheese and _crackers!_ What do we gotta do to get rid of this guy for good? Other than throw out your buddy on her keister?”

"Which is _not_ an option!” Silverbolt proclaimed before Airazor even had the chance. “And besides, he seems _wounded.”_

Rattrap sneered. “Yeah, real comforting. The _indestructible_ spark has a boo boo. Tell ya what, wolfy, go get the others and _then_ we’ll see if your bird brain can help us outta this spot any!”

Silverbolt transformed and flew through the gates almost immediately, leaving Airazor and Rattrap to concentrate their weapons on the approaching Rampage. 

“Transmutate!” he called. “I feel your spark! Come with me! Before it’s too late!”

“She’s not going anywhere with you, Predacon!” Airazor snapped almost primally, focusing her reticle on him. “And you’re not getting out of my sights!”

Without further warning, she fired upon him three times, causing the Predacon to arch back and howl in pain even before Rattrap started adding to Airazor’s fire power. 

In his weakened state, Rampage was pushed further back from the canyon. 

“What’s going on out here!?” Optimus Primal called, quickly bursting through the doors with Blackarachnia, Silverbolt, and Depth Charge in tow. 

“It’s Rampage, and he’s after Transmutate again,” Rattrap huffed just as Transmutate came through the door. “Speak of the devil – hey! You know you’re starting to be more trouble than you’re worth?”

Transmutate ignored the verbal jabs and walked forward, eyes wide as she reached out toward Rampage. “Raaampaaage?”

Airazor felt her own spark sink. Transmutate’s affinity for the Predacon was not something she easily defended to Optimus already, and to have such a direct defiance in front of everyone was not assisting their case. She was reaching for him the way one would an old friend or even a sparkmate. 

And everyone was watching her do it. 

"Transmutate!” he called again, claws extended. “Come with me! Hurry, before it is too late! We needn’t be here.”

The plea was so unusual that even Transmutate dropped her smile and looked confused. Instead of focusing on Rampage like usual, Transmutate glanced instead toward Airazor. 

Seeing her chance to influence the situation, Airazor quickly shook her head and let her friend know exactly how she felt about the unasked question.

“It is for your safety, my fellow spark!” Rampage called out.

“Safety?” Optimus asked, own optics narrowing. “Are you trying to tell us that something is coming this way, Rampage?”

“I could care less for the lot of you,” Rampage snarled. “But Transmutate can be safe, we can survive. _Together,_ my friend. Please.”

Transmutate’s brow furrowed but, in a way Airazor had never seen from her before, it also hardened in its look. “Stay with… friends,” she argued. “Friends safe.”

“No, they won’t be!” he hissed. 

“Safe with _me,”_ she corrected, stepping back closer to the base door. 

“Neither of you are going anywhere because I’m finally putting an end to you, Protoform X!” Depth Charge growled, pushing past Optimus and toward the Predacon. 

Blackarachnia crossed her arms. “Ohhh, _this_ shall be interesting,” she smiled.

Before anything further could happen, however, the doors of the base split open and Rhinox stepped forward, optics wide. “Optimus!” he yelled. “We need to be prepared – I just heard in from Tigatron and Cheetor. They’re on their way back. The Nemesis is in the air _and it’s headed here as we speak!”_

Airazor felt her energon rush through her in a surge. “Tigatron,” she whispered in fear.

“Well this is just _prime!”_ Optimus snarled before pointing a heavy finger in Depth Charge’s direction. “You still want to deal with Protoform X? I suggest that now is your time.” He then turned his attention to the rest of them. “As for us, we’re getting to all stations. We _must_ protect the Ark, everyone. At all costs. And we need _everyone_ to play their part, understood?” 

“Yessir,” almost everyone answered at once as their leader charged back inside and Depth Charge gleefully went for his own point of attack.

“Yes, sir,” Airazor said, somewhat quieter, her eyes turning on Transmutate, whose face was melting with distraught over an impossible choice. 

Airazor’s spark _sang_ for her to go to Transmutate, to comfort her in that way only she and Silverbolt seemingly could, but she instead told herself there would be time for such things later. She hoped. 

Right then and there they needed get ready for the fight of their lives and the lives of the very future as they knew it. 

* * *

The Decepticon warship was coming at them with the sort of ferocity that Airazor could not have begun to expect. While she and Rattrap continued to man the gatling guns that remained at the front of their base, the Nemesis loomed from above and dropped a continuous hail of charges.

Each one tore into the canyon and either left them more vulnerable or, worse yet, sent rocks crumbling toward them. 

Silverbolt and Optimus Primal were in the air, meeting the Predacons on their own level, but there had been a surprise.

Terrosaur and Scorponok – whose disappearance Airazor had herself reported what felt like ages ago – were combined in some machination like Airazor had never seen before. A Terronok, as it were. 

And it was giving their few fliers a difficult time, even as Cheetor came to their aid. 

Sometime during the onslaught, Transmutate had made her way behind Airazor and grasped desperately at Airazor’s feathers and wings, calming herself with the not-so-gentle touches. 

As stress built in her spark, it took everything in Airazor to not ask Transmutate to _stop_ already and let her focus on shooting. 

“We need more cover down here! Gah! Our efforts are useless without more help!” Blackarachnia screeched as she came out from the base and looked disapprovingly over the battle. “At this rate the Beast Wars will be over in a _whisper!”_

Annoyed, Airazor snapped back, “I don’t see what help you’re offering right now, Blackarachnia!”

The spider sneered at her then looked to Rattrap, who was jolting with every shot. “Where’s the others? Where’s Depth Charge?”

“Yeah, like _he’d_ help out when he’s got some prime opportunity for one-on-one action with Rampage,” Rattrap scoffed. “Haven’t you been with us long enough to figure out what everyone’s dysfunction is in their central processor?”

Airazor felt the tug of Transmutate’s grasp growing tighter, and the rush of energon through her at the reminder that Tigatron was still not with their forces yet. It was more to take in than she could have possibly imagined, but when a new being came forth from the Nemesis and took flight – Megatron’s transmetal body clashing with Optimus Primal’s – she could not hold back any longer. 

“Blackarachnia, make yourself useful and take the gun,” Airazor ordered, leaping to her feet and pulling herself away from Transmutate’s touch.

“No go,” Transmutate begged, reaching toward the air as Airazor took flight. 

Pausing momentarily, Airazor turned back and looked upon her poor friend then to Blackarachnia, who already was looking beyond put out with being ordered around. “And keep an eye on Transmutate. A single scratch comes to her and you’ll have to answer to me,” Airazor threatened with a fist up.

“I am _not_ a babysitter for you Maximals!” Blackarachnia spat just before there was a painful howl in the skies.

Gasping with them all, Blackarachnia looked up to see Silverbolt being harmed. Her eyes narrowed and she quickly slid behind the controls of the gatling gun. “Give me that!” She then snapped and looked in Airazor’s direction. “And what are _you_ still doing here!? Get in the air! Give them _some_ kind of support, you useless pigeon!”

Smirking, Airazor nodded and transformed before taking off quickly toward the ongoing battle.

In her beast mode, her maneuverability was improved, allowing her to more easily avoid the incessant laser fire. It also made her a more compact,  harder to hit target. Both things she used to her advantage as she assessed the scope of the aerial battle. 

Things were progressing fast, and she could not clearly say that they were doing so in the Maximals’ favor. 

Primal was mid battle with Megatron’s fearsome form and while her spark urged her to protect her leader and near parental-figure, Airazor knew that ultimately the Beast Wars themselves had to be decided between the two of them. They always had been leading to that fate.

Airazor looked for wherever else she could have been of service to her fellow Maximals and saw that the turrets of the Nemesis were keeping a rather unfair advantage on the Predacons’ side. Which, of course was something that she was not going to allow to stand for long.

Without a moment’s more hesitation, Airazor flew past all of the various aerial combatants and made her way to the ship’s hull instead.

Speed and precision on her side, Airazor clawed at the turrets one by one and began forcefully taking them out. Twice she had cut the operation close and singed feathers as a result, sending them loose and falling toward her friends below. But already she could see what a grand accomplishment there was from her little action.

Optimus took control of his fight with Megatron, sending the Predacon leader spiraling toward the Earth in a howl.

“Keep on him, Optimus!” Airazor cheered.

He looked to her in acknowledgement before soaring down after Megatron.

Spark swelling in her chest, Airazor nearly let the moment catch up with her. Then she recalled she had not seen Silverbolt or the loathsome combiner that was Terronok recently when it all came crashing down on her.

The flying Predacon hit her at a velocity she could not have expected, and Airazor was slammed agains the unforgiving metal of the Nemesis. A guttural, ugly chuckling came from the monstrosity then, wings flapping as Airazor began to slide from the ship.

“Pretty bird pretty bird, take you down just like the Fuzor,” the squawked at her.

Airazor didn’t have time to respond before the Predacon swooped after her again. She narrowly avoided and pushed off from the ship, flying toward the ground to get some sort of escape, but also to bring her newest adversary toward the shooting range of Rattrap and Blackarachnia.

Somehow, despite being twice the size of a normal beastformer, the combiner was also twice as fast and it was not long before the claws of the beast were wrapped around the shoulders of her wings, digging in through her feathers.

Letting out a painful cry, Airazor’s head jerked back and she was sent toward the ground far faster and far more out of control than she was planning for.

“Bye bye, Birdy!” Terronok squealed in delight before letting go of her wings.

Already in free fall, there was little Airazor could do beside watch in real time as the rocks came closer and closer to her. She closed her eyes tightly, uncharacteristically ill prepared for the sight she was about to see when there was a mighty roar that was like music to her auditory receptors.

Rather than jagged rock, her body hit against soft fur and the powerful movement of muscles just beneath it. She opened her eyes, though she didn’t need to in order to know just who had rescued her. “Tigatron.”

“My spark,” he answered as they landed firmly on safe ground and he transformed to his botmode without hesitation, prompting her to do the same. “You are hurt.”

“I am fine now that you’re here,” she assured him.

The moment did not last long because there was a familiar, haunting wail that broke out through the air. Airazor’s spark clenched and she looked to see a highly upset Transmutate.

“Quick, we have to let her know that I’m alright,” Abrazor said, trying to rise up only for her body to flare up in sparks of resistance. “Tigatron, she has to be told before she does something rash—“

But her words were far too little, too late as Transmutate turned her focus onto the Nemesis and, with an unsettling amount of clarity on her own face, began that haunting, destructive scream that was too powerful and frightful of a weapon for even Optimus Primal to have considered utilizing for the Maximals in the past.

“I believe the time for that worry is behind us, my lady,” Tigatron responded ominously.

“Scrap,” Airazor cursed.

The sonic screams were more than enough to take the Nemesis off its course, upturning the Decepticon warcraft and sending Terronok out of control in his own flightpath.

As Airazor and Tigatron watched in amazement, Silverbolt limited toward them, holding his sparking shoulder.

“It seems as though the Maximals have had their own secret weapon all along!” he said boisterously.

A part of Airazor wished to join him in the quick celebration, but her spark still felt tightened in knots.

Transmutate was _not_ a weapon, and the very idea of her being used as one made the bird of prey feel raw and angry to her core.

But even beyond that, with all of the Predacons aware of where the sonic attack was coming from, Transmutate was suddenly a target. And nothing made that more obvious than when Terronok regained control of himself and immediately went flying toward her.

“No! Transmutate! Get out of the way!” Airazor cried out, pushing up against her better judgment.

Before Transmutate seemed to even register the danger, however, a red flash placed itself between Terronok’s attack and the precious Maximal.

“You will not harm her!” Rampage roared, catching Terronok impressively in one claw before sending the combiner hurling toward the cliffside.

Airazor shared the shock of her fellow Maximals at the positively selfless act Rampage had committed when there was a roar of anger from Megatron.

Everyone looked just in time to see the Nemesis crashing into the seabed and sinking to its depths.

“The Beast Wars cannot be lost by me. No! That is _positively_ unacceptable!” Megatron cried out. He turned in the air to face what remained of his troops. “Who is responsible? Who is—“

“Rampage! Your uncontrollable pet has finally turned against us!” Terronok snarled out, landing not far from Megatron.

“The always-and-forever traitor finally shown his true colors?” Megatron cried out, as if the loss could be so simply surmised. He looked over to Transmutate and Rampage as the latter assisted the former in getting back up. “Yes, I do believe so. I should have known such a thing would come so long as the mighty Predacons were weighed down by such insubordination. _Fortunately,_ I shall always have a way of recourse in these dire times.”

“It’s _over,_ Megatron!” Primal snapped, though Airazor could see the uncertainty in his features. He wasn’t sure what Megatron’s precise plans were.

None of them were.

“You are right, Primal,” Megatron snapped, producing what _looked_ like a disembodied spark in his own claws.

“What in the world…” Tigatron spoke up.

“But for some of us it is more _over_ than it is for others,” Megatron announced before crushing the spark in his claws.

The Maximals were all too stunned and confused to fully react to the action until there was an absolute energon curdling screech from where Rampage and Transmutate stood.

At first, Airazor’s spark nearly leaped from her chest, certain that it was Transmutate. But it did not take more than a look to see that the former Protoform X, the monster they had all but Transmutate feared, was heaving and broken on the ground after the action.

Resisting her own sparking and painful body, Airazor pushed off from Tigatron and Silverbolt’s concern and stumbled toward her friend and the enemy who had so valiantly protected her.

“Raaaampaaage,” Transmutate cried out, voice watery as she held his body, writhing and growing gray.

“That was _his_ spark somehow!?” Airazor asked, aghast. “He ended the life of one of his own soldiers?”

“A punishment worthy of taking, for _her,”_ Rampage assured them, clasping Transmutate’s offered hand.

Airazor’s head was still a flutter with confusion over it all when she heard the roars of the distance. She looked in time to see the deft hand Optimus Primal had in ending Megatron once and for all, and in the sparking mess that was Terronok after the wake of Transmutate’s cries. 

The Maximals were rallying together, realizing their victory was truly upon them. 

But at her side was only Tigatron, Blackarachnia and Silverbolt, and of course Transmutate and the fading Rampage.

“You had a Maximal’s spark,” Silverbolt declared to Rampage. “It was an honor to have seen it in action.”

“Save your pity for your own kind, there is no softness in me for Maximals,” Rampage spat. His focus was still on Transmutate. “Only for my own. Only for those who could understand the differences which have us persecuted.”

When Tigatron stepped up against her back, Airazor instinctively grasped his hand, looking as Silverbolt and Blackarachnia did the same, then to the dying Maximal. 

“You are surrounded by the persecuted, friend,” Airazor assured him. “And you will be persecuted no more.”

Rampage snarled a choked off laugh. “To have only had such in life,” he mused before leaning back against the dirt. “The Beast Wars are over and so am I.”

“Raaaampaaage,” Transmutate weeped, bringing his claw up to her cheek and cradling it preciously.

“I trust our sparks will meet again, precious one,” Rampage whispered. “I trust…”

They watched the final graying of the corpse and listened to what felt like the distant cheers of their friends. 

There was hope of going home. Hope of wars ending. 

But the cost were the cries of a young Maximal, and the loss of a spark who had been wronged by their whole world.

In that way, it didn’t feel like winning at all.

* * *

"Alright, everyone, let’s get moving! Cybertron, next stop!” Rattrap sang from the ship. “We are _going home!”_

Rhinox knocked on his head as he continued moving equipment onto the ship. “Stop overdramatizing.”

Airazor watched them both with a smile as Tigatron inspected her damages from the former battle. “You are healing nicely, my spark of sparks,” he said, pressing a kiss against her cheek as he rose to stand.

“That’s good to hear,” Primal’s voice called, drawing their attention from behind. “Airazor, a word?”

“As many words as you need, Sir,” Airazor said, pecking Tigatron back before joining Primal on a brisk walk. “Shanix for your thoughts?”

“I hope you realize that there is not a truer Maximal than you,” Optimus announced. “Your spark shines the brightest of each of us – and that is no small compliment. This is the finest crew of Maximals Cybertron has ever brought forth.”

Taken aback, Airazor looked at her leader. “That’s… Optimus, I barely know what to say to that but… thank you.”

“You’ve seen what the rest of us have always missed, Airazor,” Optimus said. “And I’m poorer for each time that I have doubted you. And for that I hope you can forgive me.”

“Already forgiven,” Airazor assured him before growing her smirk. “Though, of course, that won’t spare you from me lording it over you when I can.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Optimus chuckled. “Now come on. We have a ship to board for him.”

“Yessir,” Airazor said. 

She stood and waited, watching Primal head to the ship, counting her friends and crewmates as they entered the ship headed for Cybertron. But she did not see Transmutate among them.

“Ah, boy,” Airazor sighed before taking flight. “As if getting ready for interstellar travel isn’t hectic enough.”

From above, it did not take long for her to hone in on her friend. 

Transmutate was sitting upon one of the cliffs that had once overlooked their outpost. She was looking not toward the sky but to her hands, a soft cooing noise carrying over the breeze even to the great heights where Airazor soared. 

“Here we are,” Airazor said, diving down to land easily by her friend’s side. “Transmutate, we’re getting ready to leave.”

The Maximal paused before looking to Airazor with her large dark eyes. “Eeeveryone?” she asked.

“Everyone,” Airazor nodded. She paused, watching as Transmutate’s attention returned to her hands. “I know that… the Beast Wars have been uniquely challenging for all of us. Probably no one more so than you, my dear friend,” Airazor offered, waiting for Transmutate to reach out and grab hold of her wings the way she normally did, but it did not happen. “I suppose what I’m asking – _poorly_ asking – is whether or not… Whether or not you are alright, my friend.”

After a time, Transmutate looked to her softly. “Will be.”

Airazor smiled softly – it felt brittle even on her metal lips. “I think you’re maybe the wisest one of us all, Transmutate. Now, come on, we need to get to the ship and… Say, what’s that you have in your hands there?”

Transmutate took a moment, holding the shining light close to her chest. “Friend,” she announced. “To the ship. Everyone’s going.”

Realization dawning on her, Airazor simply smiled – more true and boisterous then – and gave Transmutate her hand to grasp. “Everyone’s going home. All of our friends – you’re right. Even sparks who need a second chance.”

“Good,” Transmutate preens.

And they walk together toward their ship, toward the Maximals, toward _home._


End file.
